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Our SUV wheels around the corner and speeds off down the next road.
No one follows.
“We’re taking green route back,” the team leader says behind us. “Everyone copy?”
The pause that follows makes me wince, and when confirmation comes from her earpiece, it isn’t the same person as before who speaks.
“Bravo team is down,” says the voice. “Delta team copies.”
I close my eyes briefly, regret and gratitude tangling in my chest. It doesn’t matter that this is what the security team signed up for, nor that Zeb pays them well for the risk they take. I hate that it costs people’s lives just to make this world a better place.
The woman relays the information to Zeb and the others in the vehicle, since none of them have the advantage of Beastly’s hearing. Silence settles over us, broken only by the sound of the tires on the road.
Minutes tick past. Our destination rolls into view. In my arms, I cradle Mabel’s Hyde close, knowing I won’t relax fully until she’s upstairs and safe, preferably tucked into my bed.
A small gasp escapes her. I straighten, looking down. The green tinge fades from her skin. Her hair shifts fully from black to brilliant pink, the color like joy made manifest, and her nails change until they’re painted that same bright shade.
But her eyes start rolling beneath her closed lids. Short, choking sounds leave her throat.
Huck makes a panicked noise. “Oh, no, no, no…”
“What’s wrong?” Zeb calls from the front seat.
I have no time to answer as Mabel’s body begins to shake uncontrollably in the grip of a seizure.
Chapter 7
Mabel
Everything hurts, and for a moment, I want to curse Creepy for whatever the hell she got up to that left me feeling like I was hit by a truck.
Then I remember.
My eyes fly open. The ceiling isn’t familiar. The bed or pillows either. The sheets have a rich cinnamon smell that can’t quite cover the scent of bleach, and there’s no sound of Mardi Gras in the distance. I’m still in my dress from the club beneath the blanket, though my sandals are missing.
What the fuck?
I bolt upright.
Or try to.
Pain lances through my head, and a choked noise escapes me. I barely make it halfway up before I’m falling back onto the mountain of pillows, my eyes squeezing shut against the throbbing ache radiating from my skull. A duller throb comes from my thigh, and instinct drives me to press a hand to them both as I whisper a spell so softly even I can barely hear my own words.
The pain fades. My breathing slows, the adrenaline fading.
“Impressive.”
Oh, shit.
I roll my head to the side, my eyes sweeping everything I can see for the source of the voice but finding nothing. It’s vaguely familiar, but that’s probably not a good thing.
Traders wouldn’t put me in a… what is this? A hotel room? Cages were more their speed. Followed by fighting rings or worse.
I search inside for Creepy. She was the last one of us conscious, and I can’t remember jack shit of what went on after she took over.
She stirs briefly. A dull, giggly feeling comes back to me, but it’s muffled and dreamlike with no images or explanation to accompany it.
Not helpful. I push for more.
